


Under the Swell

by not_a_bat



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: But there be whales, EFA Fic Live 4, Everyone likes those, F/F, Just know it has the sads, Right?, don't be mad at me, or do, who am i to tell you how to feel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24314017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_a_bat/pseuds/not_a_bat
Summary: Kids ask questions.  It's what they do.  Sometimes they are easy questions.  Sometimes not.  Sometimes it is the easy questions that are hard to answer.Waverly's daughter just asked her one.
Relationships: Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Comments: 28
Kudos: 163





	Under the Swell

“Mama, what is your favorite color?”

The tiny voice floated into Waverly’s daydream, knocking her attention back to the little girl standing at her side, windswept hair forming miniscule tangles already.

A memory popped up, her and Wynonna, running through a patch of green grass, mud caked on their faces, clothes, hands, Curtis chasing them with a worm he had found in the dirt, all three laughing hysterically. He had eventually stopped to catch his breath and Waverly and her sister had collapsed in the grass, giggling for another ten minutes to themselves. Curtis had returned to his tomatoes, Waverly and Wynonna remained in the soft patch, pulling blades of grass out of the ground, trying to whistle with them. They stayed out there for hours, just being carefree, rolling grass stains into their play clothes until dark.

“Well, for the longest time it was green, since I was small like you.”

She brushed the stray hairs out of her daughter’s face, doing her best not to get caught in the mess.

“Auntie Wy calls you small now though.”

She tried to smile back at the face looking up at her. “I know baby. I just meant when I was your age.”

“Oh.”

He eyes drifted off again, already losing focus. Why was it so hard to just be present? Be here for her? She knew, of course, but she still felt bad. 

She wished she could be better at this, do more for her daughter, be what she always wanted, always needed at that age. It was one of her biggest fears for years, being a shitty mother. She had been abandoned by both of her parents after all, emotionally by her father, literally by her mother. It had nearly destroyed her and Nicole’s marriage. They had wanted children, and Waverly had promised Nicole a family, but then when it came time, she just couldn’t bring herself to commit. She couldn’t risk being the source of so much pain and heartache to another life.

Nicole had been devastated, and while she tried to understand, Waverly could see the suffering. She told Waverly she would be okay with it eventually, but she needed to understand what had happened. She couldn’t even bring herself to tell her wife. 

Waverly started going to therapy. 

She didn’t tell Nicole.

Until she did.

Turns out untreated depression and a thicket of trauma can do a lot of damage to your ability to see yourself clearly. Who knew…?

Nicole wept when Waverly told her what she had been working on, how she had been building trust in herself. It had taken a lot of emotional work and a long time, but the confidence she had regained in her abilities and the look of pride on Nicole’s face when she learned of Waverly’s journey had been worth the fight twice over.

They took it slow.

They started going to therapy together in addition to Waverly’s individual sessions. 

They had never been stronger.

Two years later Waverly found herself reclining in a hospital bed surrounded by everyone important in her life, counting ten perfect toes over and over and over again, absolutely in awe.

“When you came along though, it changed. Pink.”

A tiny hand wrapped around hers, preempting far from tiny voicing a response. “That’s Alice’s favorite!”

“I know, love.”

Sweet pink cheeks shone up at her, accompanying an even sweeter grin.

Yeah, it was definitely pink for some time there.

Those tiny pink baby toes. That was the start. She was in love with them and the wiggling little bundle they belonged to. 

Nicole would often wake to find the other side of the bed cold, Waverly in the nursery, running the pads of her fingers over those little toes. Waverly would often wake to find Nicole doing the same.

On those nights, she would drag herself from bed and stand sleepily propped up by the doorframe, watching as her wife whispered to their slumbering baby about her day, about silly things her Auntie Wy had gotten into, about how lucky she was to have Mama Waves.

Most of the time, she would go back to bed, satisfied to know her family was safe, happy to let them have their moment together. Every so often though, she just couldn’t tear herself away. Those nights they would curl up together on the oversized chair in the nursery, rocking their daughter, swaddled up in the tiny patchwork quilt Gus had made while Waverly was pregnant, back to sleep. 

It was starting to get colder. Cold enough to realize should really take them both inside, out of the chilly ocean spray. Waverly looked back down to find her daughter trying her best to read the book she had gotten her on whales. It had been intended for them to read together, but the little girl couldn’t get enough of the pictures. She looked warm enough, and certainly didn’t have the energy to move her own feet, let alone wrangle the two of them and all their things. No, they would be okay out here for a little longer.

She refocused on the slight swells, those little white peaks foaming up in their wake. 

This was still relatively new to her, the water. She hadn’t much opportunity to travel when she was younger. Nicole had been the explorer between the two of them. She had always been a smidge jealous, something Nicole was aware of, but chose not to comment on. Instead she had started planning.

They started small. At first out of necessity. But then they began branching out. She still remembered the first time she saw the sea.

They had been planning a week away, something fairly local. Things had been quiet, and Wynonna had promised to call if anything crazy happened. Besides, they wouldn’t be too far away.

Except Nicole had surprised her. Wynonna of course had been in on the plan.

Their “local” week away turned out to be a week in B.C., on the coast.

Waverly fell in love. With the trees, with the water, but mostly with the look in Nicole’s eyes. She looked at home. That was the day Waverly let herself believe she could really have it all.

They stayed in a cabin, a tiny little thing, out on the edge of what felt like an even smaller island. Just the two of them. A world all their own.

They spent the mornings sipping coffee (well, tea in her case) out on the dock, watching for whales to wander up to the surface. She thought it was a long shot. Nicole simply said, “patience baby”. The second morning she saw her first whale.

Nicole took her sightseeing every day but one. That one might have been her favorite. They didn’t leave bed until the sun was falling. Nicole had to drag her out even then. She’s glad she did. Sitting out and watching the stars emerge from the comfort of Nicole’s lap, buried under cozy blankets, stealing glances in the dark… perfection. Besides, they had needed a rest before what would come that night.

When Waverly thought back to that trip, she always thought first to the way the water sparkled that first time. The shimming blue. How she physically lost her breath.

Next, she thought about the taste of Nicole’s lips that night under the stars. How beautiful she had been when she slipped out of her sweater, still exposed to the crisp air.

It was Waverly’s favorite sweater. She suspected it had been Nicole’s favorite too. Blue, cozy, just little on the short side, exposing her taught stomach when she stretched. 

Most of Nicole’s favorite shirts tended to be blue. She had teased her about it once. The redhead had merely shrugged and winked. Later she confided that she felt most confident in blue, she thought she looked good in it. 

She wasn’t wrong.

Personally, Waverly thought she looked good in everything. (Out of everything too.) Blue suited her the best though.

Their first meeting Nicole had been in blue. Back when the uniform still included the khakis and Stetson. Nicole kept it, the whole uniform. Waverly couldn’t tell you how long ago it was now that they switched over, but she could say Nicole never stopped looking good in it. How she knew that was no one’s business, not that it would take much guessing.

“A whale! Another one! Mama, look, whales!” Waverly turned to where her daughter was pointing. She spotted a pod of orcas a few dozen meters off, peaking above the surface, but keeping their distance.

Waverly let the infectious joy of her daughter overtake her for a moment. They were still as magnificent as the first time.

“Do you think mommy would like them?”

A sob slipped out from her smile. “Yeah, baby, should would.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so.”

It was why they had come out here after all. She hadn’t shared that part. Not yet at least. Maybe later. For now, she would let her daughter experience this for the first time with clear eyes. It was the least she could do for Nicole.

“Mama, you’re crying.”

Waverly knelt and pulled the little girl into a hug.

“I know sweetie.”

A tiny hand found her hair, soft but clumsy brushes, a child’s heartwarming attempt at comfort. 

“Are you sad about mommy?”

“Yes, I’m very sad about mommy.”

“I’m sad too.” A pause, a slight sniffle. “She wouldn’t want you to cry though.”

“No, baby, you’re right. She wouldn’t want that.” A breath. “But she would understand.”

“Mama?” She hadn’t been asleep, laying in the dark in silence, thinking, actually. That was all she seemed to do lately. Think. Dwell. 

Grieve.

“Mmhm?”

“What was mommy’s favorite color?”

The expanse of the sea swirled around her memory, Nicole’s sweater, her uniform…

“Blue.”

Silence. She wondered if the little girl had fallen asleep. Her mind started to drift, replaying her memories again.

“I think that is my favorite too.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks, smile slowly spreading into place. “Me too, baby.”


End file.
